How 'bout a song?
by Someya
Summary: Arthur had concluded in this short meeting that this guy was an asshole. It's a shame he's exactly what the doctor ordered. USxUK AU
1. The Great Disappointment

**Title: How 'bout a song? **

**Summary: Arthur had concluded in this short meeting that this guy was an asshole. It's a shame he's exactly what the doctor ordered. USxUK AU**

**Chapter 1: The Great Disappointment **

**...............**

Arthur sat alone in his apartment, occasionally massaging his forehead. His hangover was beginning to wear out yet unfortunately his guilt and disgust still remained. For New Years, he had yet again exposed Peter to one of his ruthless 'co-worker parties' that he originally intended to be only a quiet get together with his peers to celebrate the New Year. That 'quiet get together' had become nothing but Arthur in his birthday suit save a small waiter's apron that covered his privates and his old bunny ears (which Peter didn't know about until that night) dancing to Black eyed peas, which was something Arthur was never the character to listen to. Not only that, his Frenchy co-worker decided to put it on YouTube, Facebook, MySpace, the lot. He was now an internet phenomenon, yet again. The last time he found himself on the internet was a Halloween night in college. An 'anonymous' French bastard put him up and he was known as the 'Britannia Angel' which he would yet again not like to speak about.

Arthur pressed himself against the kitchen bench, reading through the message again. He had found it poorly sticky taped on the fridge next to a picture of when Peter and he were young. Peter was on his back, pointing to the sky. He had remembered that day well, even though it was over five years ago. Those were the good old days.

A cockroach scurried across the cabinet and died almost immediately with a bang. Arthur wiped his hand on his pants and placed it softly on the edge of the paper. His eyes began to shift as he read through it yet again.

_Dear Arthur. _

_Are you still hung over? _

_Well... hopefully you found this, cause it would suck if you went looking for me. For you, that is. I sort of hope you do, and that you catch a cold and die or something. That'd be pretty awesome. _

_Since you were hung over and stuff, I walked to the train station by myself (Yes, I can do that) and I'll probably be back next week. Have something planned for us to do. I can't just sit around and play with Lego all night while you get smashed with your pals. _

_Go die, Jerk. _

This was a usual thing for Peter. Of course, Peter was angry. It was only... a natural thing. He said a lot of things he didn't mean.

Arthur huffed and reached in his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. Whenever he felt over the edge, it was his natural instinct. It all started when he was at the sweet age of sixteen when he first tried. Study was getting him down and his father had come in for a 'little chat' and accidentally left a packet of Winfield blues on his desk. Afterwards it all came naturally. He didn't know how much he smoked at that point. Maybe a pack or two a day. It was alright to have another one, since he'd give up tomorrow. Maybe.

His resolution had been becoming a better brother and person. It's funny because he screwed it up almost instantly.

He had been a bad influence and a shit mentor figure. He shouldn't have even considered bringing alcohol to that party. He should have spent time with Peter, been that good responsible brother that he wanted. It was New Years, after all. A time where he had the chance to make a new start. Be that Perfect big brother that Peter wanted. But no... He had spent his time smoking, participating in a shot drinking game, and he had even stripped down and posed for a Frenchy.

Pulling the cigarette away from his mouth, Arthur breathed in lightly, feeling the smoke flow down his throat, a relaxing burn easing him. _How many times have I said I'd quit since I started? _He sighed, breathing it all out, watching it dissipate in the air. I won't quit, will I?

Feeling more pathetic every second he spent in his apartment, Arthur decided to go for a walk. His warm clothes remained forgotten draped on a small rack but he didn't care. The cold would be his retribution.

* * *

Holding back a shiver in his long sleeved shirt and skinnies, Arthur continued to walk briskly down the street. Maybe walking out like this was a bad idea. He'd only been out for a couple of seconds and he was already freezing his ass off.

_No. This is good for you. You need to cool your head. _

Snowflakes fell lightly around him, catching onto the tips of his hair and highlighting his pale English skin. It was a nice contrast with his black 'AFI' shirt and dark skinnies. A black shadow in a wispy white world... how cliché.

The sound of children calmed his senses and he decided the nearby bench was quite welcoming. Arthur sat himself down ignoring the chill and wetness of the snow covered seat. He dug into his pants reaching for another cigarette. To Arthur's dismay his lighter decided to completely stop working, which lead him to sit there awkwardly; thumb twitching ever so often trying to start a flame, cigarette slowly bending in his pursed lips.

Just before Arthur could cause a scene, a lighter was lit in his face, hitting the tip of his smoke and lighting it perfectly. Thank god.

"Bad night?" The stranger asked, throwing himself down next to Arthur and running a hand through his hair.

The man looked young. Very young. Not young enough to be in school but young enough to be in college. He wore thin rimmed glasses that occasionally dropped down to his nose, which were probably fake since they were fogged and stained with snow. A thick blue scarf was casually draped around his neck and shoulders, with a bulky (and comfortable) bomber jacket underneath. The man also wore two pairs of jeans. Idiotically enough, both those pairs of jeans both had belts and the second pair was loosely fitted, barely covering his ass. Lucky his first pair did. Otherwise Arthur would have had to kill him.

"Could say that" Arthur replied with a slight croak in his voice. A nice conversation was good once in a while "Is it that obvious?"

The stranger laughed, turning his head to face Arthur, a dashing smile lighting his face. "Extremely. Can spot it a mile away. Used to have that face until I dedicated myself to the holy bible" He said with pride.

Arthur crossed his legs uncomfortably and looked away, not wanting to hear another biblical preach. The last thing he wanted was religion forced down his throat. At this, the man burst out in loud joyous laughter, patting Arthur on the back so hard that Arthur felt like he was going to spit his smoke out any minute. "I'm joking!" The man scoffed.

Arthur laughed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You've probably seen a lot of it today. The look, I mean"

_Of course he and his peers weren't the only ones to do ridiculous things on new years... right? _

"Nah. Can't say i have. To be honest, I don't even know what 'The Look' is... Just came over cause I saw you on YouTube"

Arthur froze, smoke drooping in his mouth. He had concluded in this short meeting that this guy was an asshole.

"What did you see?" Arthur growled, clutching the man's scarf and bringing his face so close their noses were touching. This might have looked ridiculous, since Arthur was quite shorter than the man.

"Everything" He smiled slyly "You're not very modest, are you?"

Arthur turned beet red and began to stutter "H-how many people do you think ha-have seen?"

The stranger seemed to ponder at this "Hmmn, the last time I checked, over five million" Arthur's mouth dropped and he sat there for a few moments, gaping like a fish. His cigarette had long since dropped to the ground and sizzled out in the snow.

"It's you, isn't it? The one in the waiter thing and the bunny ears?"

That was it. Arthur had had enough. He let go of the stranger and strode away, hands in his pockets, teeth chattering like crazy. He recognised footsteps crunch against the snow behind his and a rough hand had gripped his frail shoulder, twisting him around. Before he could control himself, Arthur cried a strangled "Fuck off!"

This really wasn't his day. He didn't need to be ridiculed further. He had already been embarrassed enough. "I don't want to continue this humiliation! I feel bad enough and I don't need you to remind me and to be honest, I don't really appreciate a complete stranger sending me on a guilt trip!"

The stranger lifted his hands in defence, waiting for another outburst which strangely did not come. He watched as the Brit just stood there, teeth chattering and red rimming the outskirts of his emerald eyes. He looked on the verge of tears. Before he could control himself, the man unzipped his jacket and swung it around the shorter one's shoulders. "A stranger? I'm Alfred. Lemmie buy you an espresso" He said softly.

Arthur just stood there, eyebrows descending more and more every given second. He didn't like coffee. He also didn't trust this guy. This Alfred was unpredictable and slightly conceited. Well, the man had given him his jacket.

Finally giving in, Arthur shoved his arms in the sleeves of the nice smelling (not to mention warm) jacket and reached out to shake Alfred's hand. "Arthur. And I'd prefer a cup of tea, thanks. "

The man grabbed his hand tightly with a grin stretched across his face "Don't care" he said, still grinning.

Arthur looked at him in disbelief. How rude could this man be?

"I think I like Iggy better" He concluded, not letting go of Arthur's hand. Oh, so that's what he was talking about... wait. _Iggy?_

Before Arthur could protest, Alfred had started to walk, his hand still tightly clutching onto the poor Brit's.

* * *

As Arthur sat, hearing the now apparent American chatter on, he could not help but feel slightly overwhelmed. It was an unusual feeling – something different from what he had felt before. For the first time, his barriers were down without the help of alcohol and he was actually socialising with someone outside of work.

"And so... I ran right through the crowd just to-"

Despite the rough start he had actually grown quite fond of Alfred in the little time he had known him. Alfred was an honest and kind down to earth boy, even though he made that more of a bad thing than good.

"So Alfred, why must you insist in calling me 'Iggy' again?" Arthur lowered his cup of tea, staring intently at the American with great interest.

"Well, it started from two things" At this, Alfred had subconsciously leaned in closer, clasping his hands together. "One: I've always wanted to say to someone who smoked a lot 'want a ciggy, iggy?'. Two: You're so damn... British" Alfred jerked his head to the side, a blush tinging his cheeks. For the first time in his life, he felt self-conscious. "But don't worry, I have a thing for Brits" Alfred instantly added in.

At first, one of Arthur's eyebrows rose to his hair line and then finally, a smirk crept across his lips. His hand tangled itself in his locks and he lowered his head, starting to shake like crazy. Alfred's first impression was that he was about to explode. And to Alfred's dismay, that he did.

Arthur's laughter rang out through the small cafe at the pathetic excuse of a pun. Never before had he met someone so pathetic and idiotic. It became even funnier when Alfred chuckled along with him, unaware that Arthur was laughing at _him. _

Alfred's smile vanished as soon as it appeared when Arthur bellowed "Haha... You're such an idiot. That was the most pathetic... Aha... thing I've ever heard!!"

As more laughter choked out, Alfred could hear Arthur's muffled "Maybe I should call you Merry for being so damn American... and happy for that matter. Seriously, who could be that damn jolly?" Arthur mocked sarcastically.

Alfred scoffed, feeling slightly offended "If I'm Merry, you're Pippin"

Arthur's laughter ceased and a serious scowl appeared on his face. "Did you just call me a hobbit?  
Did you just make another **short **joke, or is it the fact I'm **English**?" Arthur's face continued to darken.

Alfred once again lifted his hands in self defence. Never before had he met someone so damn _offended _by everything "I was just kidding, Iggy" He said after a light chuckle to ease the tension.

Arthur still seemed tense until he finally decided to let it go. "I'm sorry. A lot's been on my mind lately... "

"We've all been there, buddy" Alfred consoled, leaning back a bit. "Say, what's got you down if you don't mind me asking"

Arthur ran a hand through his rough sandy locks, subconsciously enclosing the jacket around his torso further.

"I'm a failure" Arthur admitted. He took in a shaky breath and sighed. Finally admitting it didn't feel so bad. Yet the pitiful look he'd receive when he'd look up would feel worse.

Rough tipped fingers lifted Arthur's chin, and he found himself staring at passionate determined eyes, a light reassuring smile ghosting his face "Then do something about it" His words held strong resolve. So strong that those mere five words burnt themselves into Arthur's very mind, making it impossible to forget.

The moment was gone as soon as it came, as the waiter refilled their cups and placed their orders on their table. Alfred had resumed his slouching position, gazing absentmindedly out the window. This man was an enigma.

* * *

Much to Arthur's dismay, it was time to leave. The cafe was shutting soon and it was beginning to dim outside. It wouldn't be a good idea to bother Alfred further.

Arthur took another unsteady breath and stared up at Alfred with sight insecurity. He wasn't social. He didn't know what to do after this part.

"Listen, Iggy" Alfred murmured awkwardly. "Would you like to..."

"Yes?"

"Nah... It's too soon"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Too soon to do what?" He said, making his irritation clear.

"Come back to my place and maybe watch a movie..? I need some company"

Arthur grinned inwardly "Well..." He began, trying to raise the American's insecurities "You did insult me... And you have seen me naked" A smirk stretched across his lips.

He could see how Alfred's cringe had deepened at each passing second and he enjoyed every last bit of it.

"But... that cafe had some damn good tea so... Lead the way, twat"

Soon enough the large grin that Arthur had grown quite fond of had stretched across Alfred's face once again.

* * *

**Author notes: **

**Excuse my horrible writing and grammar. It most likely WILL improve as I continue writing. This is actually the first time I have really written anything for a while. **

**This chapter was sort of introducing Arthur and having the first meeting with Alfred. The next chapter will hopefully be more exciting, since I get to build on things from here XD **

**If you can guess all the references and send them in a review I will offer burgers and tea!! D **


	2. Smooth

**Chapter 2: Smooth**

Alfred continued his job of wiping down the mahogany stand, listening to the slight clinking of bottles as his little brother arranged the beverages so they could work knowing where things were placed. This was ritual for the both of them. The only difference was Alfred was actually going to work alongside his brother making the drinks that night. Their boss had allowed it since Mathew was slowly wearing out from the growing crowd of people that came each night. He couldn't do the work all by himself.

Occasionally when Mathew needed a break, Alfred took over making drinks because he was so damn fast when put to the occasion. Alfred didn't really complete a bar course in University, but enough experience with their father had left him a master at mixing drinks. The fact that the brothers looked so similar kept them off the hook and their boss just turned the blind eye, knowing that they were both good boys.

Alfred's mind drifted back to the days when he was at home making drinks for his father and friends. They had only ever asked for the best, so when Alfred screwed up or knocked a drink over, his intimidating Uncle Sam would point a gun at him. His father had told him that Uncle Sam had _killed _a guy once, which at first scared Alfred to no ends, until his father only laughed, giving him one simple tip: A drunken man can't aim a gun.

It took a while for Alfred to realise what he meant.

"So what have you done this time?" Mathew strained, knowing that Alfred was up to something.

"Okay, so I met this guy Arthur and-"

"Al, I thought you said you wouldn't do that anymore"

Alfred stopped whipping down the table and turned to face his brother. "It's different, Mattie. Arthur's not like Ivan"

Arthur was a good person and he just needed some help. He wasn't involved in anything illegal and he definitely wasn't a psycho. Arthur just needed someone to support him. Plus, he didn't know why Mathew was so worried. It wasn't like he was convincing a convicted terrorist to put the bomb down and go back to his own country.

"Al, you can't spend your life trying to fix people when you yourself need to be fixed. Plus, remember what happened last time?"

The American stopped to ponder this. As Alfred said before, it was different. Arthur was a walk in the park compared to Ivan. Ivan had been a mistake. A mistake which he would not make again. If only Mathew** knew** Arthur like he did. Wait...

"Listen, Matt. Why don't you meet him?" The American flashed his brother a determined smile which was returned with a worried huff. His brother turned away to further inspect the bottles, but Alfred's confidence would not falter. Mathew was an amazing judge of character and Arthur was... interesting to say the least. Besides, Arthur was British and Mathew was a sucker for accents. They were sure to hit it off.

"C'mon Mathew..." Alfred pleaded, staring at his brother with puppy dog eyes. There wasn't a time where this trick didn't work.

"Well, I-"

"Then it's a date. And yes, you can bring that boyfriend of yours"

* * *

Bursting into his apartment, Alfred sprinted to the phone. He couldn't wait to hear Arthur's gorgeous accent again.

"Iggy~" He cooed.

Arthur leaned against his kitchen bench, trying to ease his overexcitement. This call was probably... Arthur eased the phone away from his ear, almost going deaf. It was Alfred, and Jesus was he loud. "No I do not want to have a Twilight saga" He said bluntly, before Alfred had a chance to ask.

He heard Alfred gasp on the other end of the phone and the last thing he heard was a _'how did you know?' _ before Arthur decided to smash the phone down and wait for Alfred to ring back.

_1, 2, 3.... _

"Hello Alfred" With a roll of his eyes, Arthur tried to feign displeasure. He actually loved phone calls. It left him less exposed and he always felt more outgoing on the phone.

"_That wasn't nice, Artie" _Alfred whined, sounding offended.

"And since when do I play _nice_" Arthur scoffed, an uncharacteristic smile finding its way across his lips "So what is it you wanted?"

"_Ah. About that... Fancy a date?" _

Arthur could hear the uncertainty in Alfred's voice, and Alfred was rarely uncertain or _vulnerable_. This was a perfect opportunity to tease him and gain the upper hand. He also didn't want to seem too eager. The last thing he wanted was Alfred thinking he had too much time on his hands.

"A date? Aren't we going a bit fast, Mr. Jones?"

"_W-well, you see... I'm meeting my brother's boyfriend for the first time and I need someone to hold me back so I don't knock the bastard out. I could always ask the pretty girl next door-"_

"No need, Alfred. I'll go" Arthur answered hastily. The last thing he wanted was for Alfred to take back his offer "The food's free, right?"

"_S'all on me, Iggy. I'll pick you up later" _

"Can't say no to that" And with that, Arthur hung up. He loosened his grip on the phone and sighed, closing his eyes. Shit. He got you in the end. You're way too eager, Arthur.

Alfred stood alone in his apartment, phone hanging limp in his hands. He breathed out a sigh, trying to silence the thoughts flowing through his head. Alfred was never one to blush, but the moment he heard Arthur say 'Mr. Jones' his face had began to react. This was bad.

'_Mr. Jones...' _Alfred's thoughts repeated. '_I must record him saying that at some stage' _

.................

"Is this casual or formal?" Arthur growled, tossing his clothes on the floor. It'd be nice if Alfred had been a bit more informative. All Arthur got was an 'I'll pick you up later'. Oh well. He could always ask when Alfred showed.

Giving up on finding decent clothes Arthur crashed into his couch. There was nothing he could really do at that very moment. For the first time, Arthur decided to consider the situation.

There were two scenarios to this state of affairs. As a _man _he would think he was supporting his friend so that things weren't too awkward and if the time came when he wished to knock the guy's lights out Arthur –as his friend – could hold him back or in some cases, join in.

The other scenario was more of a _girlish _situation. He would be meeting Alfred's brother for the first time and not only that, his brother's partner. Adding onto that, it would be the first _date _he had ever been on with Alfred.

_Is this Bromance or is this really something? _

_Does this mean I sway towards __**men**__?_

He wasn't really interested in anyone until now, and he wouldn't really say he was _sexually _interested in Alfred. Sure, the man was handsome and seemed like great company but it was more of a curiosity than anything else. Besides, it's not like someone can fall in love or even _begin_ to like someone that way in four days. It was probably an infatuation.

"This is stupid" Arthur muttered, deciding to leave things at that. Some good old music would serve as a good intervention.

Arthur rummaged through his stack of CDs, noticing how disorganised he really was. Some had been sprawled out on his table, others in a completely different album case. And wait – were there disks lying around without cases here? Peter had probably been the culprit. There was no way in hell Arthur would be responsible for this mess. Actually, everything here had been gaining dust. How long had it been since Arthur had listened to his music?

Picking up a mistreated disk, Arthur turned it around to find it was his old Bon Jovi album. God he and Peter had loved Bon Jovi. They had used to jump together on Arthur's bed, singing together their favourite songs. That is, until their mother got sick of their beds breaking and bought them a trampoline and a CD player.

Rubbing the disk against his shirt, Arthur placed the CD into the player to see how damaged it was. The gods were on his side when he found that the despite it's battered appearance, it was completely fine.

Before long he found himself standing on his couch his remote control in hand, singing at the top of his lungs. "It's my life!"

This was his and Peter's favourite song. It was how they had decided they would live their life – living with no regrets and not stopping just because someone else didn't agree. They would live by their own principles and no one would hold them down. Of course, Arthur changed when he got into college. Reality had bashed down on him and he realised that things weren't that simple.

"It's now or never!"

How long had it been since he had so much fun by himself?

"I ain't-"

Arthur dropped the remote, feeling his feet sink slowly into his couch cushions. "How long have you been there?" He questioned, glaring at an amused Alfred that stood leaning lazily against the wall.

"Long enough" He answered with a victorious smirk. It was funny to catch people in their more private moments.

Arthur stepped down from the couch and stopped his CD player, pulling the disk out and finding a makeshift case to put it in. He would clean up that godforsaken mess later. "You came early" He muttered with a blush of embarrassment still visible on his cheeks.

"Well, yeah. Sorry 'bout that. It's just I want to get my mind off meeting..."

"I don't mind" Arthur cut in, ushering Alfred over to the couch.

While he could, Arthur took in what Alfred was wearing. It wasn't that he was checking Alfred out or anything. He just wanted to know if the outing was casual or not.

Alfred had a striped open zipped jacket with a black shirt with the picture of a white tie underneath. His trademark two pairs of jeans still remained but this time a metal chain was seen dangling from a pair.

"I don't know if you're a scene kid or a gangster that doesn't want people to see his knickers" Arthur muttered, shaking his head at Alfred as he took a seat.

"Hey, I'm neither. I wear my mind on my sleeve"

"Is that why you rarely wear a _shirt_?"

"Har Har" Alfred retorted, rolling his eyes. "You're no better. You shouldn't go about thinking wearing skinnies in the middle of winter is _normal_"

The last thing Arthur wanted was for _that_ to be brought up since it had left him bed ridden for a good couple of days with the worst god awful flu he had ever experienced. It had felt like he was hit in the head with a jackhammer while he had a hangover dealing with a bad case of food poisoning. It had even come to the point where he had asked for Alfred to come over and take care of him, which was rare for the Brit.

Not realising that while he was remembering his horrifying experience, a glarefest had ensured between him and Alfred, and being the introverted person he was, he averted his gaze and changed the subject. "What's the occasion?" Arthur strained, jerking Alfred up and leading him to his bedroom. He pointed to the large mountain of clothing and turned to Alfred. The look he received was nothing but 'say no more'.

"Tell you what. Go have a shower and I'll pick something out. I'm pretty good with this sort of stuff" Alfred flashed Arthur another one of his trademark grins, giving him thumbs up.

"Alrighty then"

Arthur ran his hand through his hair before leaving the room. Sure, he was anxious about someone else other than him in his room, but it was Alfred so he was sure nothing would go missing. Besides, it wasn't like Alfred could fit into his clothes anyway.

* * *

Alfred paced around the room, soaking in his surroundings. Arthur sure had tried hard to find something to wear to cause a mess like this. He had only been in Arthur's room a couple of times since they first met, and this was the first time he could really get a good look.

The room was cosy and had a homey feel to it, much like Arthur's entire house. Lots and lots of memories seemed dormant and even though Alfred hadn't personally made any memories of Arthur's house, everything seemed nostalgic. Nothing like Alfred's modern flat.

The American took in a deep whiff, his brain filtering the unique and beautiful smells. The scent was cigarettes and a mild hint of coconut rum, which Alfred disregarded. There was a scent and air about the room that made Alfred's senses tingle.

'_This was Arthur's room. This was __**Arthur's **__smell.'_

He bent down, rubbing his thumbs against a 'Bullet for my Valentine' shirt. Arthur sure did take care of his clothes. Judging by the faded picture at the front, it had gone through years of washing, yet the material itself was still strong and well looked after. Arthur hadn't even stretched it.

Dropping the shirt and snapping out of his curious daze, Alfred began to rummage through the rest of Arthur's attire. He had to stop looking through Arthur's belongings. Arthur's things were none of his business.

Pulling out a pair of black dress skinnies, Alfred pressed them against his own jeans, comparing Arthur's size with his own. God Arthur was small. He had never actually realised that until now. The man barely had any meat at all on his bones.

Alfred delved into Arthur's huge pile of attire further, finding an old Bon Jovi shirt. Images of Arthur's spontaneous outburst prier filled Alfred's head and he couldn't help but laugh. God that was funny. No wonder Arthur's friend had put him on YouTube. The man was so anal at times, so the rare occasions when he let his guard down and acted like a total spaz were priceless.

Laying the chosen clothes on the bed, Alfred stood around awkwardly for a minute before deciding to sit himself down on the mattress and wait for Arthur . The bed seemed slightly stiff and worn out, yet he guessed it did the job.

'_I wonder if this bed creeks_' Alfred thought with amusement. He began to bounce up and down, hearing a loud squeak emitting from the mattress at his every single small movement. Poor Arthur. The whole world would probably be able to hear him if he ever actually brought a girl home. _If _he ever brought a girl home.

Trying to stray his thoughts away from Arthur's lack of a sex life, his eyes fell on a framed picture by the Brit's nightstand. Subconsciously, Alfred picked it up, rubbing the dust off the old picture frame.

It was of a small boy and a young Arthur covered in what looked like cake. They were both grinning, clumps of it on their face and lodged in their hair. How cute. Arthur had been holding the little boy up, their cheeks bumping together with matching grins on both their faces. This must have been Arthur's little brother.

* * *

Arthur stepped into the room, a pair of union jack boxers keeping him respectable and a towel covering his sandy locks. He stared uncomfortably at Alfred, who was sitting on his bed with a smile etched across his face. What was that guy up to?

Raising his brow, the Brit edged over, peering at the clothes neatly laid out on his bed.

"I thought a Bon Jovi shirt was appropriate" Alfred chuckled, turning around and giving Arthur privacy.

"You're an asshole, you know that?"

Alfred could hear the sound of fabric brushing against skin as Arthur got changed. Without making it seem too obvious, the American had briefly checked out Arthur's body when he had walked in. Alfred was right. Arthur was quite skinny. Alfred could easily see the bumps of Arthur's ribs and his malnourished legs. He had never seen someone so bony.

"What's wrong, Alfred?" Arthur questioned, noticing the change in the American's usual self. "I'm not used to not having to tell you to shut up"

Alfred could hear the sound of a belt wrap around the thin Brit's waist, so he took it that Arthur was decent enough for him to turn around. "Nothing really, Iggy. Just looking at that picture on your nightstand..." He murmured, his tone sort of saddened. All he wanted to do now was give the Brit a nice big burger and a good ol' feed.

Walking over to the picture on his stand, he seated himself next to Alfred, gazing at the picture with something Alfred couldn't comprehend in his eyes. "This was Peter's fourth birthday. I was about Thirteen at the time. When I picked the kid up, the brat rubbed cake in my face" Arthur said sourly. "We were inseparable back then. Now he only comes to see me on weekends"

Alfred chuckled. "You're lucky. I only see my brother at work. Apart from that I can never figure out where he is"

"Well, I have no idea why Peter always comes back. I've let him down so much, but he never gives up on me. Some days I wish he'd just realise I'm not the person I used to be" Arthur confessed.

"You don't have to be the person you used to be. Just stop letting the kid down" Alfred consoled, nudging Arthur's arm with confidence.

"Let's get off this topic and get going"

* * *

Arthur stepped into the bar, feeling more self conscious the closer they got. It wasn't that he felt awkward about meeting Alfred's brother. He was fine with that. It was the fact that he was meeting people he had never met before. He was never a social person, and the last time he did something like this he drank too much and made a fool of himself. Note to self: Lay off the drinks tonight, Arthur.

"Calm down. It's not like you're meeting my parents" Alfred reassured, nudging his arm lightly. Arthur pressed his lips firmly together and lowered his brows anxiously. Anyone related to Alfred couldn't be that bad, right? Things would be fine...

Alfred spotted his brother and lightly gestured towards them, pushing Arthur lightly with him. "Hi Mattie!" Alfred exclaimed, ruffling his little brother's hair.

Arthur lifted his hand awkwardly, waving to Alfred's look alike with unease "Greetings" He muttered, sitting himself down.

"Hello" Mathew welcomed curiously, noticing Arthur's accent "So I take it you're Arthur?"

"Correct" Arthur said, smiling lightly "And you're Mathew, right?"

"Mhm" Mathew acknowledged. "Francis will be coming any minute now, Alfred"

Arthur's face darkened making Mathew raise an eyebrow. "Alfred could I talk to you for a minute? Excuse me Mathew" Arthur smiled apologetically.

Arthur more forcefully than intended jerked Alfred out of his seat and dragged him to the back of the pub. He could hear Alfred's protests, but he didn't care since this was **much **more important. "Alfred, you know how there was that guy who exploited me and put me on YouTube?" Arthur hissed, making Alfred stop in his tracks. Time to drop the bombshell. "That's the guy your brother's dating"

Arthur could see mixed emotions play out on Alfred's face, but the first was undeniably anger. "Look, we can get this bastard later, but right now I've got to prove to Matt that you're a good guy. I sort of said to him that if he didn't like you I wouldn't talk to you anymore"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. What are we, dating?" Arthur barked his accent becoming thicker.

The look on Alfred's face confirmed his suspicions. Arthur raised his eyebrows for a minute, opening his mouth to say something before his eyebrows descended and he exhaled a dignified huff. "You owe me" He hissed, walking towards the table with a fake smile plastered across his face.

"So what were you guys talking about?" Mathew asked inquisitively, eyeing Arthur with suspicion. Arthur only averted his gaze shyly, pressing his lips on his straw. Mathew had ordered drinks while he and Alfred had had their little _discussion_, which was a blessing since Arthur now had something else to focus his attention on other than chitchat.

"Nothing really" Alfred answered absentmindedly, subconsciously placing his arm around the seat. Usually he kept to himself when it came to sitting next to friends, but a paranoid dominance thing kicked in when it came to Arthur. Especially since most people had seen the man _naked _from that _stupid_ YouTube video.

"Bon Jovi..." Mathew read, his eyes fixated on Arthur's shirt.

"Yeah" Arthur murmured, exchanging glances with Alfred. "Bon Jovi got me into guitar in high school. Not only that, his music was something that my brother and I shared in common. We used to sit outside on the trampoline, just listening to his music" Arthur reminisced, turning scarlet from embarrassment "Sorry; I'm boring you aren't I?"

Mathew instantly lifted his hands, shaking his head "Of course not!" Mathew exclaimed. "Me and Alfred had something like that too" Mathew informed. "Yet instead of Bon Jovi, we had Santana"

"Yeah, I remember that. We'd listen to the song 'Smooth' over and over. It used to annoy Dad so much" Alfred added.

"Mhm! Remember the time he got so angry, he threw a bottle of whiskey at us" Mathew grinned, recalling their childhood. The two boys both cracked up, hi 5ing each other spontaneously.

"Ah, the good old days" Alfred said.

All Arthur could do while listening to their nostalgic exchange was sit there appalled, wondering how they could talk so happily about such a violent act from their father.

"What were your parents like, Arthur?"

Arthur thought for a second, wondering if he should tell the brothers the truth. "My dad smoked and drank a lot. In fact, he got me into it. He was a good guy though. My mother was the sweetest lady you would ever meet. She died when I was about eighteen along with my father. After that, my brother and I moved in with my dad's mates, Berwald and Tino" A sad smile ghosted itself across Arthur's lips. He hadn't told many people about his parents.

"I can't really say we can relate, but our family was a bit on the eccentric side as well. Our dad and his side were heavy drinkers, and we were the ones usually making their drinks. In fact, our uncle Sam used to point a gun at us whenever we did something wrong" Mathew reassured, trying to make Arthur feel a bit more comfortable. "He could never actually shoot us though. Even when he was sober he had a horrible aim"

"Our mum was gorgeous in her younger years. Now that I think about it, I don't understand why she ended up with our dad. She just did. Met the bastard in high school and never left him" Alfred smirked, nudging Arthur with his fist. "True love, aye?" Mathew put in.

At that moment, a figure stepped over to their table, a rose loosely fitted in his _perfect _hand. "How is everyone this evening?" A heavy French accent asked politely, seating himself next to Mathew and scooting over to the point the poor boy barely had any personal space. He placed the rose he had been dangling around in Mathews hand and kissed his fingertips softly.

"Francis that is Alfred, my **brother** and his date, Arthur"

Francis turned his head,= at the sound of the name 'Arthur' and a confident grin stretched across his handsome features. "Have we met?" He questioned, raising an inquisitive brow towards Arthur.

_Of course we have you stupid twat. I've known you since the days I shat in a nappy and ate dirt. Remember me? I set your ex-girlfriend's hair on fire by accident . Best friend my arse. _

Arthur felt Alfred nudge his leg against his. Oh yeah. He wasn't allowed to insult Francis. "Can't say we have" Arthur answered with venom in his tone. Arthur glared at his cup for comfort. If his eyes met with that French bastard, he would have to commit murder.

"Oh I'm sure I've seen you somewhere" Francis provoked, stroking his slight stubble with his index finger and thumb. Francis had known Arthur was self-conscious about the fact that he didn't have facial hair. It caused him a lot of grief when he wanted to get into pubs and he had to constantly argue that he was indeed over the age of eighteen.

"Well, I might know where" Arthur said with a victorious smirk, deciding to use the video against him. "This really worthless asshole, and I mean a huge shit headed jerk, put me on the internet when I was drunk on New Years. Really, some people have _no lives. _This _obsessive stalker_ has done this to me on a number of occasions too. That's probably where you've seen me" Arthur concluded.

"That's awful" Mathew soothed. "Have you found the person who did that yet?"

"No, but I've got a pretty good idea on who did it..." Arthur said slyly. Oh how fun it was to finally be able to turn this around.

He exchanged a smirk of amusement with Alfred, before the duo both glanced towards Francis. A scowl had replaced Francis' confident smile which Arthur took a mental picture of. Oh god he wished he had a camera.

"I mean no offence, Arthur was it? But I believe you were also in the wrong from getting so drunk you acted like a... how you say... Total ass" Francis said innocently, his accent as thick as always.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I have trouble understanding your accent" Arthur said, feigning politeness.

Francis chuckled lightly, "As do I, my English friend"

Arthur would have loved to snap 'I'm not your friend, you bloody frog!' but he had said to Alfred that he wouldn't cause too much conflict and he wasn't one to go back on his word.

"So how long have you two known each other, Alfred?" Francis asked, keeping his eyes on Arthur. One would say this was Francis continuing the conversation, but Arthur knew better. Francis was slowly setting a trap.

"Quite a while now" Alfred lied. "Me and Iggy are inseparable"

Now it was Arthur's turn to kick Alfred's leg. He had exposed the embarrassing nickname in front of Francis. A person who had ridiculed Arthur for over twenty years now. Francis was sure to tell his co-workers about this.

"So Arthur, I hope you don't mind me asking, but what is your... sexual orientation?" The bastard asked, leaning his chin on his hands. Arthur knew his main agenda for tonight was toying with Arthur as much as he could, but Arthur would not give him that satisfaction.

As much as he wished to say 'None of your god damn business', he had decided to answer truthfully. Not because the French man was using this as a way to provoke his more detestable attitude, but because he could tell the American next to him was eagerly awaiting an answer.

"To be honest, I'm not too sure. I've never really expressed any interesting in anyone until now so I can't really find a definite answer for you. Other than that, I don't really look at gender when I meet a person. If I enjoy the person's company, I may start to like them despite their gender. I guess that makes me Bi-sexual, but I'd rather meet the love of my life than turn down the opportunity just because they were a _man_" Arthur answered honestly, surprising even himself.

From years of knowing Francis, he had known that the only way to deflect the asshole's moves was to answer as sincerely as possible. That way he just looks like a _**douche**_for asking.

Feeling triumphant, Arthur took a sip of his coke and instantly regretted looking up. To his shock, everyone at the table had been staring at him, especially Alfred. The brothers probably thought he was a weirdo now. Fuck.

A light laughter sounded from Francis before he breathed "Good answer" He made a toasting notion towards Arthur and muttered to Mathew "I like this one"

As everyone resumed their conversations, a new found respect for Arthur had began, yet all Arthur could think about was the fact that in all the years he had known Francis, this was the first time he had actually ever received an honest word of praise from the man.

* * *

**Hmmn... **

**This chapter was sort of hard for me, since I promised it to be more exciting yet failed miserably. God I suck. **

**The next chapter will hopefully have more in it though. I want to introduce Arthur's workmates D **

**Reviews are extremely appreciated :D**


	3. My Blue Heaven

**I really loved everyone's reviews! My confidence level is rising :D **

**Ages: Alfred and Mathew – 20, Arthur – 23, Peter – 12, Elizaveta – 25, Vash – 27, Kiku – 21, Yao – 28. **

**Disclaimer: Wow. I forgot to disclaim until now... *spaces out* I wrote this, yet I don't really own the characters or anything mentioned. **

**..................**

Arthur cracked his stiff fingers. A break was in order. The work had been piling on a lot lately and he was too unfocused to speed through it like he usually did. Peter was coming over tomorrow and owed the kid _a lot_ of lost time which made him pretty anxious. This was probably his last chance with Peter and if he screwed up this weekend their extremely fragile relationship would most likely cease to exist.

Hmmn, Peter _did _say he want to go out and do something. What would a twelve year old want to do in London?

There was still snow out, so maybe they could go down to the park and build a snow man?

If Peter didn't want to do that, he could always use his rainy day funds and take the kid to Disneyland. Argh. _Disneyland? _Would Peter really be into that? What did I spend my time doing at his age...?

Of course, Arthur couldn't really be used as a comparison. He grew up too fast, and couldn't really be called a child. What he called 'fun' back then was either rebelling or playing his guitar, and there was no way he was going to influence Peter to rebel in _London_ of all places.

Arthur let out an annoyed sigh. Alfred would have a few fun things up his sleeve. He could give Arthur some tips and he was only a short call away. Then again, it could also get him fired since the call 'wasn't important'. Screw it. It _was _important. Besides, he probably wouldn't be talking for that long. He would have finished before the manager could say 'cats'.

"Alfred, you have the mental capacity of a twelve year old; what do you think Peter would like to do in London?" Arthur asked quickly, feeling more paranoid by the second. He glanced uneasily at the door. Maybe he should have thought about this before doing it. He could have always asked Alfred _after_ work. _Use your brain next time, Arthur. _

"_Firstly, I have no idea what that means"_ The American slurred after a slight pause, frustrating the Brit further. _"Why don't you take him to a theme park, or the beach_?" A yawn emitted from the other end of the phone, causing Arthur to role his eyes. It was one in the afternoon and the idiot still hadn't fully woken up.

"Newsflash, idiot: We're in _England. _The beaches here are shit and it's also _winter,_ you imbecile" Arthur's eyes involuntarily twitched. He had to wrap this up soon. His job was on a pretty thin line.

Actually, it was a pretty big miracle the Brit hadn't been fired yet. Arthur was the type of person to tell someone off if they got on his bad side, which most of his clients did. He wasn't afraid to yell at the idiots, either. If someone acted like a dickhead or a twat, a person had every right to inform them of their behaviour. In a way, he was doing them a favour. If someone told _him_ to put his clothes back on and sober up the night he dressed up as a bunny waiter thing, he would have been so grateful he would have bought the bastard a house.

He was nothing against Francis though. Unlike everyone else, if Francis' clients said no or disagreed, he would take it to the next level – and by take it to the next level I mean sexually harass the person to death. The guy made the company seem like a dodgy phone sex scam. Then again, sex sells. Although, if Francis had gotten a couple more xenophobic straight males, his job would have gone in a heartbeat.

"_Iggy, are you really bisexual?" _

Arthur scowled, massaging his temple to calm himself down. He had forgotten he was on the phone to the American, and the fact that it took five minutes to ask something like _that _pissed him off further. "Why are you asking-"

The door clicked open and Arthur hastily slammed the phone down. A mop of black hair poked its way through his door and Arthur breathed out a relieved sigh. He couldn't help but feel thankful that someone had interrupted. Arthur wanted to avoid that conversation as much as possible. It was uncomfortable talking about his sexual preferences after that night. Alfred seemed to become sort of unbearable afterwards. Maybe he hadn't noticed until that night, but Alfred had seemed to invade his personal space twice as much.

"Ah, sorry. Were you talking on the phone?" A soft voice asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Oh! No it was nothing important!" Arthur reassured, bursting out of his chair and walking over to the small Japanese man. His name was Kiku and at first glance you would think he was a girl. If anyone had seen his older brother, Yao, they would realise that that was a big understatement. When Arthur had met Yao, he had to question whether Kiku got his words wrong and meant older _sister_. The man sounded so damn effeminate.

"He was probably talking to his _boyfriend_" Francis cut in, stopping to pose at the doorframe. "It **is** the first person Arthur has ever dated after all. I guess he couldn't help but call-"

"Arthur has a boyfriend?" A head poked in, staring inquisitively at Arthur's confirming blush and Francis' knowing smirk. That seemed proof enough since before Arthur could protest, the person had run down the hall to spread the news in the office. _Great._

"Bollocks!" Arthur exclaimed, smashing his hand against the wall in anger. Kiku flinched, holding his stack of papers closer towards his chest while Francis just shrugged the action off. He was used to it at this stage.

Soon everyone in the office would know and he would yet again be a laughing stock. This really wasn't good for his image. Dancing entirely naked and coming out of the closet all in the same month? This was sure to get him fired.

Much to Arthur's disdain, he heard the neighbouring office door burst open. Time seemed to stop and the air suddenly became unbreathable. This could only be...

"Arthur you bastard!"

_Vash..._

"That wall you just freakin' punched is also _my_ wall" Vash scowled, grabbing onto Arthur's shirt and bringing his face so close their noses almost touched. "Ravage my wall and I will ravage your _face_" Vash hissed, letting go of Arthur and storming out of the cubicle.

As much as Arthur hated to admit, Vash was a good person at heart. It was just he had a horrible temper. On a number of occasions Vash had stepped in when Arthur was tormented by his workmates, but apart from that the man stayed pretty neutral.

Arthur winced, relief flooding through him when he heard the Swiss' door slam. Note to self: Hit the _other_ wall next time. He didn't quite mind pissing off the Spaniard bloke on his right.

Nice one, Capitaine" Francis snickered, racing out of the office with Kiku in tow. His work was done.

Blinded by his fury, Arthur grabbed the nearest object (which happened to be his stapler) and threw it out into the hallway, hoping he hit Francis. He needed to kill the bastard before the news spread further.

* * *

"You're really hopeless" Mathew murmured walking through the doorway and lightly shutting the door behind him. His twin sense was tingling and he had to go make sure Alfred hadn't gone and done something stupid. He was sort of relieved when he found his brother sulking instead.

"Come on Alfred. I know there's something wrong" Mathew said, sitting down on the edge of the couch where Alfred lay wrapped up in a cocoon. He had known from years of being Alfred's twin that the man's reactions were extremely spontaneous. It was either an overreaction or no reaction at all, and the things you'd think would sting the kid never did. It must have been something big for him to actually _sulk_.

"Iggy hang up on me" Alfred admitted, pouting.

Mathew stared at Alfred for a while, processing what he had just said. Before laughter could explode out of his mouth, Mathew jerked his head around and silenced himself with his hand. He had to try his best not to laugh. He had to be there for his brother and by doing that, take the situation _seriously_.

"Well wouldn't Arthur be at work at the moment? I doubt he could call anyone for too long" Mathew reassured, ruffling his big brothers hair. "Go have a shower. I'll make you some pancakes, aye?"

"With maple syrup?" Alfred questioned childishly.

Mathew nodded, dragging the blanket off Alfred's legs. "Well go on" Mathew ushered.

Alfred raced out of the lounge room, and soon the sound of the shower made itself apparent in the apartment. This was the queue he wanted.

Without a second thought, Mathew broke out in loud hysterics. He hadn't had this type of conversation in a long time. Ever since Alfred had met the Russian, he had kept to himself and slowly grew up, not needing his little brother anymore. Now, after so long he was finally relying on him again. God was this nostalgic.

Mathew had always been the one looking after Alfred through their childhood. When Alfred got into a fight or got hurt playing sport, Mathew was always there with a small smile and a first aid kit. Of course, it didn't really count since they were twins, but it still annoyed Mathew that he had to baby his older brother. That is, until Alfred completely stopped relying on him all together. That was after he had met the _Russian_. After that, he had kept secrets, slowly distanced himself away and never told him anything. It was like Alfred had become a totally different person.

Now he was slowly reverting back to his old childish self. Arthur was sure to be in for a lot.

The only bad habit Mathew was able to kill back then was Alfred's obscene laziness when it came to food wrappings. He would always leave a trail of Mc Donald's bags, chip packets, and muesli bar wrappers everywhere. Soon, Mathew had had enough and decided to show Alfred a little movie. In the movie, a ghost child would leave wrappings and garbage leading up to the upstairs, where his mother and he were killed. You know the movie.

To Mathew's amusement, the habit had been cured almost instantly. He guessed when Alfred woke up those mornings and saw trash on the floor his paranoia got the better of him. The only problem with that plan was Mathew had to sleep with Alfred's arms crushing him in a tight hold for about two months until he got over it.

Mathew began to beat the pancake mix, ridding the concoction of any clumps. His thoughts wandered on Francis. He hadn't said anything, but he was sure he and Arthur had met at some stage. He could see it in his eyes. Maybe they had dated at some point, but something was surely there. He'd make a point of asking about it later...

"Hey Mattie" Alfred said inquisitively, plopping himself down on the bench next to the frying pan. "Why did you come over?"

"Because I had a feeling you were down" Mathew murmured, swaying the pan to create a huge thin pancake. Alfred gazed at it hungrily, his blue eyes bright with intrigue. Food always happened to be his main agenda, and nothing else existed when Alfred was hungry and food was in the room.

"When you ask a question, you should at least listen to the answer" Mathew scolded, flipping the pancake skilfully.

"Huh? I wasn't listening..."

* * *

Arthur shoved the work folder in his suitcase, slamming it quickly. He wanted to get out of the office as soon as possible. The last thing he wanted was people catching him and asking him if he really had gotten himself a boyfriend. Or if this was his first actual relationship...

Arthur poked his head out of his office door, checking if the coast was clear. Great. No one in sight. Most of the people in the office had left early since it was a weekend, so that was at least in his favour.

Walking out as casually as possible, Arthur couldn't help but grin with relief. This would all blow over soon enough.

Pressing the down button on the elevator, Arthur whistled a cheery tune. Maybe people didn't care that much about the whole fiasco. They probably thought Francis was lying anyways. It wouldn't be the first time Francis had made up something like that. Other than that, most of his co-workers thought he was pretty straight. He wasn't the type of guy that went floundering about his sexual conquests like Francis, and he guessed that most of his co-workers thought that way about the gay community. It was really a shame.

The doors opened with a 'ding' and Arthur stared in shock at who was standing inside.

Without a second thought, Arthur sprinted towards the stairs. Of course the war wouldn't end until he was out of the blasted building. He was too damn careless.

"Oh no you don't" A strong hand grabbed him by his collar before he could run any further, pulling him back into the elevator.

"For fucks sake, Elizabeth! Let me take the stairs!" He whined, being pulled by his collar. Was this girl **trying** to kill him?

"Arthur I know you're English, but my name's _Elizaveta,_" She corrected with poison in her tone. "And I believe you have some explaining to do"

Before Arthur could protest, the Hungarian woman had locked the elevator so it stayed completely stationary. She wasn't going without answers.

"Fine" Arthur growled, his trademark scowl scrunching up his features. He wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as possible, and he didn't mind telling Elizaveta this since he had known from years of working with her that she was pretty trustworthy. "I met this guy and we've been pretty chummy for a while" He admitted, glancing over to Liz who was smiling eagerly. He loved Liz, but she could be so weird at times.

The girl had a strange gay fetish that she wasn't too shy about either. It was quite funny at times, like the time they paired up all their workmates and played out how horrible their relationships would be, but sometimes it was just plain weird. He decided a long time ago to ignore the weird bit and just have fun with the girl, because in all honestly she was like a sister to him and one of the only people he could really trust.

"But the guy's as straight as anything. Not only that I'm a bit out of his league, Lizzy" Arthur murmured, smiled sadly. He looked over to Liz, whose stance slackened when she heard Arthur's honest tone.

Her fingers reactivated the elevator, and she stepped over to Arthur, giving him a loving hug. She was always so warm and soft and loving. Closing his eyes, Arthur awkwardly placed his arms around her waist after much inner conflict. In situations like these, he had no idea what to do. He wasn't a very huggy person and he wasn't good with the sappy stuff altogether.

"You don't know that, Artie. Homosexuality is a preference, not a way of life. Not all gay men have girly tendencies like we see in the movies; some are as ordinary as anything" She whispered in his ear, finally breaking out of the hug and giving him her best motherly smile. "This guy could be as interested in you as you are in him"

"I'm not interested!" Arthur retorted, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

"See you on Monday, Artie" She scoffed, giving him a playful punch on the arm. They both stepped out of the elevator, walking their separate ways into the busy streets of London.

* * *

After much thought, Arthur decided to stop by Alfred's apartment. He had to apologise for hanging up on him so rudely, and besides that he still needed some ideas on what to do with Peter. Knocking on his door, he waited impatiently for him to answer. He felt sort of awkward seeing the guy after his conversation with Elizabeth.

Giving the doorbell one last ring, Arthur debated whether to leave or not until a surprised Mathew answered the door. The boy had headphones curled around his neck, still bursting with surprisingly loud music. It sounded sort of like a remix of the Mortal Kombat theme...

"Hi there..." Arthur said awkwardly. "Is Alfred in?"

"Nah, he just went out to buy some food. Come on in" Mathew said with a smile, opening the door further and walking casually inside. "Sorry, I've been cleaning so things are a bit displaced" Mathew said over his shoulder, taking a break on the couch.

Arthur stepped into the apartment, feeling more and more like he was intruding every second he was in there. Wasn't it a little creepy walking into someone's apartment while they weren't there and talking to their little brother?

"So what brings you here?" Mathew asked curiously, ushering Arthur to sit down next to him.

"Well, I was going to ask him for tips on what my little brother would like to do in London" Arthur said, chuckling lightly.

"Hmmn. Why don't you play catch? My brother and I have our old gloves and baseball somewhere..." Mathew suggested, slowly trailing off. A horrified look crossed his face, and Arthur couldn't help but raise a thick brow. "Just as long as you don't let Alfred join in" Mathew warned, terror swimming in his eyes.

"Uh... Alrighty then" Arthur muttered awkwardly, scooting further away from Mathew. From the look he had received, he had to question if the boy was actually sane.

"Who can't join in where?" Alfred questioned curiously, suddenly standing right behind them. While Mathew had just jumped, Arthur had taken it a step further and burst out of his seat, unbeknownst the coffee table was right behind him. He immediately lost his balance and the next minute he found himself on the fluffy carpet with a slight pain in his ass. Damn that hurt.

Alfred burst out in a fit of laughter before offering the Brit a hand in getting up.

"Artie~ I missed you" Alfred cooed, dropping his groceries on the floor and subjecting Arthur to a bone crushing hug.

"Can't say the feeling's neutral" Arthur choked, scowling bitterly at Alfred. Now he had a sore ass _and_ a sore rib cage.

Alfred ignored Arthur's previous comment and picked up the neglected bag on the carpet. "So what brings you to my humble abode?" He asked, flashing the man a large grin. His past mood had dissolved completely and all he felt like doing now was smiling.

"Well, I need help" Arthur muttered with strain. He pressed his body against the couch and massaged his temples. "I have a feeling that if I don't show Peter a good time, he'll never come back"

"Leave it to me" Alfred grinned, grabbing Arthur's wrist lightly and leading him into the kitchen. "Help me put these away" Alfred ordered, attempting to get Arthur's mind off its current subject. Arthur looked like he needed a break.

The Brit scoffed. "I don't even know where your bathroom is, so do you really think I would know where to put the rest of this rubbish?" Arthur snapped, sitting down on the bench and crossing his arms. There was no way he was doing chores for the buffoon. "Common sense is a wonderful skill, Mr Jones. I suggest you learn-"

"Say Mr. Jones again!" Alfred exclaimed, pulling a recorder out of his jeans pocket and shoving it in Arthur's face. Talk about overwhelming.

"Sod off!" Arthur growled, pushing the mechanical object out of his face.

"Say it..." Alfred said, pressing himself closer to the Brit.

"You two are both as bad as each other" Mathew sighed, wishing they would realise their current positions.

Knowing nothing would have gotten done with Alfred's short attention span, Mathew had decided to supervise. It was surprising that the two had still not realised he was there until then.

The duo shifted their gazes to stare at Mathew. Since when did he get here?

"Excuse me; I need to get in there" Mathew muttered politely, waiting for the two to move.

Alfred stepped away from the bench, letting Arthur get out and the Brit soon followed, letting Mathew pack everything away. God this was embarrassing.

"You should just say it, Arthur. He's never going to let it go" Mathew advised softly after packing everything away.

The man left the kitchen and soon the two could hear a hockey game on the TV. God that was awkward.

Before Alfred could force Arthur to say his name again, Arthur side stepped him and gave him a devilish smile "I'll tell you what. I'll take this" Arthur said, pulling the recorder softly out of Alfred's fingers. "I'll sing you the song 'Mr. Jones' and record it **if** you plan a whole weekend for Peter and I. You and Mathew can tag along too"

"Done"

"Pleasure doing business with you, _Mr. Jones_" Arthur said slyly, picking up his suitcase and leaving the apartment. He needed to go tune his guitar and look up some tabs.

Alfred sat down next to his brother, watching the hockey game with a large smirk spread across his face. Mathew could tell his mind was far, far away from the game and somewhere completely different.

"You're whipped, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry did you say something, Mattie?" Alfred said, changing the channel irritably.

* * *

**I was originally going to make it so the outing was in the same chapter, but that would have made it too long XD**

**Oh! The movie btw was 'The Grudge' XD it terrified me for an extremely long time. **


	4. Mr Jones

**Chapter 4: Mr. Jones. **

**...**

Arthur stopped by Alfred's house, knocking on the door with haste. He was nervous and barely got a wink of sleep that night. He was too caught up in thinking about the bad things that could spout from this. He** was** relying on Alfred after all.

It was ironic how he had entrusted his relationship with his brother in Alfred's hands, since the stupid American was one of the most unreliable people on earth. It also didn't help that this was one of the first times Arthur had actually relied on anyone. He didn't feel too bad though. He trusted Alfred. Sort of.

Mathew answered the door with a yawn, opening it instantly for Arthur. He had slept over at Alfred's that night to supervise the occasion. The twin knew that Alfred could handle it perfectly well, but he just couldn't take the risk. Arthur and Alfred's relationship was extremely fragile at that moment, and one simple screw up could throw the whole thing over. It was also apparent that his brother had feelings for the British man that he was still coming to terms with, and it would be a tragedy for things to end now.

Arthur discovered Alfred's body on the couch; a leg flopped over the top cushion and an arm limping down the side. A stream of drool snaked its way down Alfred's cheek, making Arthur feel slightly repulsed. "Wake up, idiot" He ordered, imprinting a red handprint on Alfred's cheek with a loud crack. That seemed to work since the American's beautiful blue eyes opened drowsily, making Arthur's cheeks glow a profound red.

"Uh... Hamburgler?" Alfred slurred.

"No Alfred. I'm not the bloody Hamburgler. For starters, I'm English and secondly, if I could steal anything, it **definitely** wouldn't be a damn hamburger - I could go on if you like" Arthur mocked, feeling a smirk stretch across his lips as a morning smile appeared on Alfred's face. Arthur suddenly felt privileged. He had been the first person to make Alfred smile that day.

"No need, Iggy" Alfred yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. This was the first time Arthur had actually seen Alfred without his glasses, and god was he handsome. Sure, he looked fantastic _with _the glasses, but now he just looked downright sexy. Wait. It was not the time to think these sorts of thoughts.

In his frustrations with himself, Arthur hit Alfred over the head with the tape. He had spent a lot of time that night making it, and he had included a personal apology since he forgot to say it the other day. "If anyone else hears this, you're dead" Arthur warned with a blush "And don't listen to it till I'm gone" He added quickly.

The last thing he wanted was Alfred making fun of him after hearing it. As cheesy as it sounded, Arthur had poured his heart and soul into playing that song, and he wasn't about to stick around for any reactions afterwards.

"Sure thing, Arthur" Alfred said, trying his best to be understanding. He had never actually felt the same when it came to people seeing his skills. Alfred believed that if a person had something to offer, everyone should know and appreciate it, so he tried his best in life to show everyone what he was good at.

Mathew was the opposite though. He had never been comfortable in the limelight and preferred supporting people over being the best. It annoyed Alfred to no ends at first, since people used and underestimated his brother, but soon Alfred realised that Mathew never really minded. He just liked being helpful to people and being needed. That's all the reassurance he desired.

"Coffee anyone?" Mathew offered, automatically handing one to Alfred. He smiled gratefully at his younger twin, ruffling his hair playfully. What would he do without him?

"You have it, Mattie. I don't quite like coffee" Arthur declined politely, giving the boy a smile.

Before Arthur could protest, Mathew had slammed his coffee down and enveloped Arthur in a bear hug. "You called me Mattie!" Mathew exclaimed happily. Arthur swallowed the awkward feeling in his throat and began to pat the taller man on the back. Mathew was sort of cute once you got past his disappearing act and the fact that he was so damn tall. "Yeah. I did" Arthur commented uncomfortably.

"Can I call you Iggy?"

"No" Alfred answered for him, prying his twin off Arthur with a jealous glint in his eye. Mathew started to whine, attempting to hit Alfred weakly. "He's as much my friend as he is yours!" Arthur stared at the twins uncomfortably, feeling more like an object than a person the more the bickering went on.

"Alright you two, break it up" Arthur said, taking charge. It was going to be a long day.

...

Arthur paced around awkwardly, waiting for Peter's train to come. Mathew and Alfred stood next to him, reassuring smiles plastered on their faces. "It'll be fine, Artie" Alfred said helpfully, wrapping his arm around the Arthur's shoulders.

Arthur wasn't really used to the close proximity, but he let it go since Alfred was just doing it to cheer him up. This was something Francis usually did when something bad was going to happen concerning him. Since with the octopus'- I mean Francis's arm- around him made it almost impossible to run away.

"Chill" Alfred told him, a reassuring smile lighting his face.

The trio turned their heads as a train rolled into the station, blowing its shrill whistle. The moment of truth was approaching.

Bracing himself, Arthur furrowed his brows and huffed, building up his courage. This wasn't just his only chance at recovering his past relationship with Peter. It was also Peter's first time meeting Alfred... and Mathew. Let's not forget Mathew. Shit.

As the doors opened, a flock of people instantly poured out, crowding the station. Arthur had to stand on the tips of his toes, lifting his chin up high to see over the large mass. It was times like these where he wished he was a bit taller.

Arthur bit his lip as the last people stepped onto the platform. Amongst them the Brit spotted a small boy in a black jacket and orange skinny jeans. It was Peter.

"Peter!" Arthur called, getting the boy's attention. The boy jerked his head to the direction of the noise and battled to keep his position in the moving crowd. Arthur pushed his way through the faceless people, Alfred and Mathew not quite far behind. They really should have just waited for the massive flock to leave.

"Peter" Arthur repeated, slightly breathless. He ruffled his little brother's hair and smiled weakly.

"Hey big bro" The other said awkwardly, his eyebrows lowered. This was the first time Arthur had actually attempted to reach him inside the station.

The boys exchanged awkward glances as people pushed through them, attempting to get out of the station. It was quite claustrophobic and inheriting strong noses from both their parents made things less pleasant. Arthur nudged his brother's arm and gestured towards Alfred and Mathew, slowly pulling Peter towards them by the arm. "I brought some friends along"

"Oh great" Peter said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

The two sets of siblings closed the distance between each other. An introduction was in order. "Alfred and Matt, this is my little brother Peter" He introduced proudly, a smile stretching his lips.

"Oh so this is the little brother I've heard so much about" Alfred said with a grin, crouching down to Peter's eye level and messing up his hair. The boy looked like a younger version of Arthur, except with bright blue eyes, almost similar to his own. Pete's lips were in a stiff scowl and his eyebrows were just as unruly as Arthurs, making Alfred chuckle. Their fashion sense wasn't far off either, that improvised indie look that the both managed to maintain.

"Arthur's been talking about me?" Peter questioned, a blush tinting his cheeks.

Alfred inwardly grinned. The fact that Peter still cared about Arthur's opinion of him meant that their relationship was still fixable. If he could only get the two to have some fun together, maybe things would go back to the way they used to.

"Yep. Sometimes that's all he talks about" Alfred agreed, playfully rolling his eyes. The American glanced in Arthur's direction, and indeed he had pushed the lines of 'too far'. Arthur had been on the verge of smacking him yet again.

"Alright then folks, so where are we going?"Arthur feigned excitement, nudging Alfred with his foot. That asshole better had something planned.

...

"The park?" Arthur whispered towards Alfred. The American only replied with a lopsided grin. He was always so sure of himself.

Conveniently the park wasn't too far from the train station and not too many kids were around the place this early in the morning. It was way too early for someone to be up, let alone outside, which was great since it was actually quite beautiful around this time. They had the whole park to themselves.

Pure white snowflakes fell lazily, getting caught in their hair and on their clothes. Arthur glanced over to Peter who had an eager grin on his face. As the boy breathed, a white fog escaped from his mouth, and Arthur couldn't help but smile. He was so cute.

The boy stumbled into the white world, his feet making a crisp crunch at every step he took. A grin stretched across his lips and his eyes had brightened to a beautiful azure blue. This was the first time Arthur had seen Peter this happy in a long time.

Diving into the snow, Peter began to thrash his arms and legs about, creating an angel. "Arthur! Look!" He called, getting up and showing Arthur his makeshift creation. "Come join in!" Peter offered, laughing eagerly.

"No I-"Before Arthur could protest he found himself drowning in snow with a huge idiot around his waist. If the snow wasn't extremely soft, that tackle would have been excruciatingly painful. Arthur's breath hitched as he stared right up at Alfred, their noses almost touching. It didn't take him long to realise that the oblivious American was practically on top of him, his face barely an inch away from his.

The moment was gone as soon as it came and Alfred had left his place on top of the Brit and settled for the pile of snow next to him. "Come on Britannia angel!"

Arthur lifted his torso, ruffling the snow out of his hair angrily. Did Alfred just refer to him as the 'Britannia angel'? How did he know about that...? Oh god. Alfred had seen the other video.

Before Arthur could fly into a fit of rage, he had caught a glimpse of Alfred's eyes and the anger immediately dissipated. The snow made his eyes look so damn blue...

Mathew laughed, scrunching up a snowball and throwing it at Alfred. "Snowball fight!" He yelled, diving into the snow.

Alfred laughed happily, making a large snowball and throwing it directly at Mathew's face, making his twin fall back into the snow from the impact. "It's always been like this! You throw too hard!" Mathew whined, getting up only to be hit with another snowball.

Alfred continued to peg snowballs at Mathew until his twin was close to tears, his laughter never ceasing.

"Those two are a bit..." Peter mumbled.

"Just ignore them. They do this a lot" Arthur advised, laughing uneasily. "Want to build a snowman?" Arthur offered.

"Sure!"

Alfred's ears perked up at the sound of Arthur's laughing. He jerked his head around to gaze at the two British boys, a smile ghosting his features. "Look, Mattie"

Mathew dusted the snow off his face and watched the two brothers. A matching smile crossed his lips and he let out a light sigh. "They look so happy" He murmured, lifting himself off the snow.

"Arthur hasn't smoked for a while either. I couldn't smell it on his breath before" Alfred mentioned with a smile.

"I guess you've done your job then"

"Yeah. But it doesn't feel right to let him go just yet"

Mathew patted his brother on the back, nudging him, "Who said you had to?"

...

**Sorry it took so long to write this chapter. I definitely am continuing and I'll be updating more regularly. I know it seems that this story isn't going anywhere, but this is just the beginning. Bear with me. **

**A couple of months ago I reached a sort of rough patch in life. I guess you could call it the 'stupid phase'. I've woken up to myself now. **

**Notes: **

**Indie – for anyone whodoesn't know, Indie means 'Independent'. Basically, Indie kids are people who love things that don't really hold much popularity (bands, hobbies, clothes) and have a strong sense of self. These people are referred to as Turtles. If you are one, message me and let's be friends **** If you have any more questions about it, just ask me. **


End file.
